


Love

by AssortedHeroes



Series: The Chronicles of Eos [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn Being Ardyn, Ardyn Izunia Being An Asshole, Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Original Character Death(s), Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 23:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14725569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssortedHeroes/pseuds/AssortedHeroes
Summary: She wakes up and he's there yet again.





	Love

The flame-headed man holds her closely as she sleeps. The bed is soft, large enough for only the pair’s spots to be warmed by their body heat and an inordinate amount of pillows rest around their heads. It’s in the middle of the room; a mahogany wooden dresser to the left holds her clothes and there’s a tall floor lamp to the right. A door to a fancy bathroom sits next to it - marble tub and three sinks. 

Strikingly blue eyes open slowly back in the bed, a hand coming to rub them as she wakes. She yawns prettily, then sighs, for she’s smelled the burnt cinnamon of the man and felt the stubble atop her head. “You aren’t supposed to be here…” 

“Oh, I know...but it’s hard to resist such a pretty thing when she’s asleep. You always distract me…” His lips are curved upward, a smirk formed on them. 

She pulls herself gently from his arms to set bare feet on the carpet. Her sundress touches the middle of her thighs and she can sense amber eyes watching the hem - but there’s nothing to do for it. “Love, I’ve told you more than once,” she groans. “You aren’t good for me…” And off she moves to the kitchen. Just across from the foot of the bed is the entrance to the rest of the suite. Three couches are around a transparent glass coffee table and there’s a full kitchen with food in the cabinets in the opposite corner. Straight ahead from the front door is the sliding glass one that leads to the balcony overlooking the canals of the city. It’s a wonder someone unemployed like the woman is able to afford such a place nightly. 

She finds her hands busying themselves with eggs and bread to turn into toast. Her stomach is rumbling. 

He’s watching her again. 

His hands are on her hips now. She feels lips on the back of her neck and instinctively leans into his touch. It’s so difficult to reject him after so many years. But… 

“Please, love. Please stop this...I don’t want to hurt you but-” 

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing.” His chin moves to rest on the crown of black hair, arms encircling her once more in such a gentle embrace that she knows he isn’t there to hurt her. 

Her palm falls flat onto the hot burner where a pan was just sitting. 

The skin is burnt. 

He tuts and pulls her to one of the couches, sitting her down and kneeling before her with his gaze fixed on the newly-abraised skin. “Now, that’s no way to treat yourself, darling. Why allow this to happen?” 

“I don’t know. Perhaps I simply don’t care anymore. I...want to rest, love. Not sleep - _rest.”_ The distinction elicits a shocked expression from the male that fades almost immediately. 

He knows exactly what she means, and a look of sorrow crosses his face. “...so do I. Why do you think I’m doing all this to the world?” A soft sigh leaves his throat, and he stands. “The prince will fulfill his calling by letting me. Perhaps, if the gods allow it, you and I will meet once more in eternal bliss…” 

“Have you forgotten the rules, my love? When I die, my soul will only join with the rest of it. I will be another. You and I will...never see one another again after you die.” With a thin, joyless smile, she gets to her feet and pads over to the sliding glass door that leads to her balcony. She leaps and proceeds to sit on the thin railing, legs dangling over the side. All it would take is one little push, one little _slip_ and she’ll fall to her death. Too far for the water in the canals to do any good, and even if it wasn’t, she can’t swim. Doom. 

He’s leaning over next to her. _He must be warm in those layers,_ she thinks, eyes on his overcoat. He always did like to bundle up. She’s shivering. His fedora isn’t on his head; she can see those wine-colored locks and suddenly feels the urge to run her fingers through it. _No. I can’t fall for him all over again. He is nothing more than a plague unto the world._

“You Messengers,” he begins after a long moment of silence. “You aren’t meant to take sides in these petty human wars.” 

She scoffs. “We aren’t supposed to...but I am a special case. The advisor of the First King. I am...duty-bound to you, and so doomed to follow you…” 

“So why continue to refuse my company?” 

“Because you continue to hurt my friends. The people who accepted me after I returned to life. Perhaps I sought you out at first, but that was only because I knew nothing else. Now...I have so many who would put me first for reasons I cannot understand. And _you_...you torment them. You torment me. I know that you are...bad for me. So I try my best to keep away.” 

The man laughs and embraces her from behind once again. His next words, whispered gently into her ear, haunt her years later. 

“And yet you can’t help but **love** me.” 

She feels herself spun around, and the coppery taste of his lips overwhelms her.

**Author's Note:**

> Their story will come.


End file.
